


Love, hidden on your skin

by LouiseLouise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU_gust_2020, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst with a Happy Ending, August Writing Challenge, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Misunderstandings, Requited Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25731709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LouiseLouise/pseuds/LouiseLouise
Summary: Stiles and Derek are in a friends with benefit type of relationship, so when a tattoo of Derek’s scar appears on Stiles’ skin, pointing to Derek being his soulmate, he freaks out, thinking it’s going to ruin everything because Derek doesn’t feel the same. So he keeps it hidden, and the next ones too.Until a fight with a siren changes everything.orSoulmate AU where the scars of your soulmate appear as a tattoo on your skin as they heal on theirs.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 19
Kudos: 661
Collections: AUgust 2020





	Love, hidden on your skin

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [AUgust writing Challenge](https://augustwritingchallenge.tumblr.com/post/621653119656493056/the-list-of-prompts-was-completed-one-prompt-per). Day 3 is: Soulmate AU
> 
> I haven't written a proper Sterek fic since the show's finale and I usually don't write soulmates but surprisingly it felt easy and nice writing them again, so I hope you'll like it!
> 
> Huge thank you to my wonderful betas [marciaelena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marciaelena), [irishstone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/irishstone) and [meloingly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/meloingly). All remaining mistakes are mine, English is not my first language.

Every morning, the same ritual. Wherever he spent the night, Stiles wakes up before everyone and locks himself in the bathroom. He showers then stands in front of the mirror, concealer in hand. 

He stole the first one from Melissa, telling himself it was an emergency and he didn’t have a choice. He bought the next ones online, making sure no one could open the package before him.

His reflection in the mirror is a mix of lack of sleep, stress about the monster of the week and that pit in his stomach, the constant worry of Derek finding out what he’s hiding under the concealer. He looks at his skin and counts the tattoos. No more than yesterday, that’s at least one good thing. 

Derek didn’t get hurt, so Stiles didn’t get a new tattoo. 

Damn tattoos. Damm soulmarks.

_For every scar your soulmate bears, one shall receive a tattoo of the same shape, appearing as fast or slow as the scar is healing._

He grew up thinking it was romantic. Spent his teenage years scrutinizing every inch of his body in hope it would speak to him, point him in the direction of his soulmate.

Spent the following years scrutinizing Malia’s skin, then Lydia’s, waiting for their scars to fade and transfer onto his body.

He waited in vain.

For a long while he thought being alone was not that bad. No waiting, no expectations. Between his job and being there for the pack, he didn’t have that much free time anyway, and how would he meet someone new when he was spending most of his days taking care of a bunch of werewolves.

It takes all of them almost dying in a trap set by a rival pack for him to fall in bed with Derek, of all people. In bed, and in love; not that Derek was aware of that last part. They both need the comfort, so Stiles tells himself it makes sense.

They’re good at being friends, and good at this friends with benefits stuff, but love? Derek would never love Stiles back, so Stiles doesn’t tell. He keeps his feelings to himself, keeps his heart and hormones under control like they all trained to do.

Love fades, just like scars, anyway, so Stiles waits for whatever they have to come to its natural ending, wondering what’s next for each of them.

What’s next is a tattoo Stiles sees on his arm one afternoon. Derek is training the betas and one of them scratches his shoulder. It’s nothing Derek won’t heal from, so none of them bats an eye at it.

Until Stiles feels an itch in that exact spot, and when he takes his shirt off in the privacy of his bedroom there’s a small line, right there, in ink.

Magic ink that is going to ruin his life if Derek ever finds out. They never really talk about this arrangement they have going on. They’re here for each other when it comes to fighting, no questions asked, and sex works just the same. 

So every morning, the same ritual; Stiles covers the tattoos one by one, counting to make sure he doesn’t miss any. Then he goes on about his day, to work or back into Derek’s arms for a lazy morning like nothing’s wrong.

Stiles is not going to ruin a good thing because of some stupid unrequited feelings.

But a siren might.

*

It’s a mess of fins and fangs and the betas getting dragged under the water. Stiles tries to identify their leader so Derek can negotiate something with them, anything that would bring back the peace to Beacon Hills.

Sirens may seem weaker on land but they’re not, not against the human that Stiles is, at least. The slash on his chest leaves him breathless, and the ground rushes up to meet him as the world around him goes dark.

He comes to on Deaton’s table, someone holding his hand and people whispering around him.

He tries to talk, but his mouth feels like jelly and his tongue is heavy, so he settles for squeezing the hand around his, hoping his muscles will obey him.

“Hey,” a voice says a second before Stiles sees Derek standing up next to the table. So that’s who the hand belongs to. 

Stiles opens his mouth, trying to speak once again and failing.

“Paralyzing venom, it’ll take a moment to wear off,” Derek explains. 

Deaton appears on the other side of the table with the same soft smile Stiles has seen him use every time he’s about to share bad news. “The wound is shallow and will heal easily, but you’ll need someone to watch over you for the next twenty-four hours, maybe forty-eight to be safe, until your body purges itself from all the venom. I’m guessing Derek can take you home?” Deaton turns toward Derek, waiting until he nods. “Fine, then. I’ll leave you two to figure out the details.”

And with that Deaton is out of the room in an instant, leaving Stiles with a laconic version of Derek that he almost forgot existed. His expression is neutral, and it could be the concern of having a pack member get hurt in a fight, but somehow it feels wrong and Stiles has no idea why.

“I’ll get the car,” Derek says, leaving Stiles alone in the empty room, unable to move and with a thousand questions running through his mind. The sirens, the pack, the negotiations… all that will have to wait until he can speak again. Or maybe write, since his hand seems to work properly.

Derek carries him from Deaton’s office to the car, then from the car to the loft and onto the bed, where Stiles falls back asleep before he can figure out how to communicate with Derek.

*

The next time Stiles opens his eyes the loft is bathed in morning light, sun shining through the windows, and Derek is asleep on the couch across the room. Stiles can feel his body now, and the pain makes him almost regret the improvement. He moves to sit up against the headboard and clears his throat.

“Hey.” It’s a soft hey, but Derek’s werewolf ears still catch it. Stiles smiles, watching Derek wake up and sit straight on the couch. He waves loosely at his chest, hoping Derek understands that it might be time to change his bandages, but Derek doesn’t move.

After staring at Stiles for a moment, Derek averts his eyes, looking at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever seen, and Stiles has no idea what to make of that. His throat is still sore and his mouth feels less like jelly but words are still complicated, so he waits for Derek to explain whatever is going on.

“You were in the water,” Derek finally says.

_Yeah_ , Stiles thinks, _that’s what happens when you’re fighting sirens_. “Sirens,” he manages to say. “Water.” He makes a tiny wave with his hand and shrugs.

“We had to check your wound.” 

Stiles frowns. Derek is being creepier than he ever was back in the day, and it’s starting to freak him out.

“We had to remove your shirt, and--”

_You’ve seen me without my shirt countless times_ , Stiles wishes he could say. He tries to convey it with his face, but Derek is still looking at the ground, so Stiles pushes a sound out of his throat. “So?”

Derek finally lifts his head up, and the sadness Stiles can see in his eyes is devastating. 

“How long have you been hiding them?”

It still doesn’t make sense, until Stiles looks down at his shirt, hand brushing against his chest, against his wound, against… The tattoos.

The tattoos that the water must have revealed, washing away all the concealer he used to hide them _with_. The tattoos that scream of love and everything Stiles doesn’t want Derek to know about.

He closes his eyes. “Shit.”

There’s so much he wants to say and so little his throat can utter. How sorry he is, for the feelings he never expected to harbour, for the truth he kept to himself to avoid disturbing the status quo, for the selfishness of wanting to keep Derek to himself and away from his true soulmate.

Not that telling the truth now would help; it’s clear from the look of hurt on Derek’s face that there’s no going back to what they were, but Derek deserves a clean break, to move on from Stiles and that pretense of a relationship.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel that way,” Derek says. “It’s just a mark, there’s no obligation to love your soulmate. It’s okay,” he repeats, and Stiles may not be a werewolf but he can hear the lie, loud and clear. 

He can hear it but he can’t understand it, so he stands up and crosses the room, sitting on the coffee table in front of Derek. 

“But you shouldn’t have to hide,” Derek continues, placing a hand on Stiles’ cheek. “You don’t have to love me back, but you shouldn’t have to hide. Ever.”

“Back?” Love him back? No, that’s not-- that’s not why Stiles hid the tattoos. That’s the opposite of it, that’s-- Stiles has never needed to be able to speak as much as he does now, and the frustration is rising in his chest. He turns towards the coffee table and grabs the first pen and paper he finds laying around.

_Hiding because just friends + benefits_

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m saying,” Derek snorts.

Stiles shakes his head and adds to his first sentence.

_Hiding because / you want to be / just friends + benefits_

Derek’s gaze moves from the paper to Stiles’ face and back, his expression puzzled. 

“No, no,” Derek starts, pulling the hem of his shirt up to reveal the tattoo that started to appear in the shape of Stiles’ wound. “I thought _you_ wanted to be just...” he adds, searching Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles lifts his hand, tracing the lines of ink on Derek’s chest, mesmerized, before shaking his head no again and writing some more.

_To be clear I love you_

It’s definitely not how Stiles ever pictured confessing his feelings for Derek, but sometimes you have to do with whatever life hands you, and there’s no way he’s waiting one more day to say those words, not now that he knows Derek feels the same. Unless he completely misunderstood the conversation.

But Derek leans in, resting his forehead against Stiles’ before pressing the softest kiss on Stiles’ lips. “I love you too.”

_So, not a misunderstanding_ , Stiles thinks as he kisses Derek back with all the energy he can gather. “Good,” he whispers, pulling away for a second.

More than good. 

Kissing Derek, his _soulmate_ Derek, is the closest thing to perfection that Stiles has ever experienced. And all it took was getting hurt in a fight, which doesn’t sound like a bad deal after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! For likes and reblogs, you can find it on tumblr [there](https://theladyandthewolves.tumblr.com/post/625634487706992640/love-hidden-on-your-skin).  
> Like always, kudos, emojis and comments mean everything to me ♥


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